#sunset in the rearview

[presentsoul]

Rearview Winters

[dyingfeline]

3434

[suchalovelylittlething]

[perfectstormlinnea]

sunset drive

[81sainz]

DIET PEPSI ★ L. NORRIS

★ PAIRING: boyfriend!lando x female!reader

★ GENRE: NSFW

★ SUMMARY: in which lando pulls over to watch the sunset with you in his porsche; things take a turn from there.

inspired by “diet pepsi” by addison rae

★ WORD COUNT: 1.2k

★ WARNINGS: car sex, semi public sex, nasty kissing, making out, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, teeny bit of praise cause I can’t help myself, cumshot. lando is soooo sweet. I think that is all! please be noted this is only semi proofread.

★ AUTHORS NOTE: finally! making my formula 1 fic debut! I hope you all enjoy this. I started writing this somewhere before summer break and unfortunately just got to finishing it. life…am I right? I guess the lyrics hold true because my boy has won 2 times since then! I know this one’s a bit short, but feedback is appreciated!

“Are you sure no one is up here?” you asked your boyfriend as you unbuckled your seatbelt.

Lando reached over slightly and gave your thigh an affirmative squeeze. “It’s fine, I was looking around.”

The two of you were on a drive in his 911 carrera and pulled off to a small spot up on a hill that overlooked the city. It was later in the evening and the sun was setting; casting an orange glow over Lando when he turned to you.

“You look so pretty in the light. Come here.”

Lando adjusted his seat before helping you over the center console and gearshift of his vehicle.

“I don’t want to break anything.” You spoke out loud with a laugh as Lando had his hand on your leg to help you.

Lando shushed you. “You’re fine, I’ve got you.”

You were in his lap within seconds; adjusting the skirt that you were wearing slightly to get more comfortable.

“Comfortable?” Lando brushed your hair off of your shoulder before planting a few kisses softly onto your skin near your collarbone.

You hummed in response, nodding before combing your fingers through his soft curly hair as his mouth made its way up to your neck.

You let a small whimper escape your lips when Lando’s teeth scraped your skin slightly.

Your hand tightened in his hair as you rocked your hips into his lap; feeling his bulge through his jeans.

“Fuck.” Lando swore under his breath as his hands roamed your thighs and to the curve of your ass underneath your skirt.

“I want this off of you.” Lando glanced up at you quickly for any sign for him to stop before unbuttoning and unzipping your skirt, removing the item of clothing from your body and throwing it into the passenger seat.

You mentally thanked yourself for the outfit choice of yours.

“Wow.” Lando let out a sigh, leaning to kiss you again as his hands returned to their place on your thighs, and moved up to your waist.

You were eager for him, grabbing a hold of his white button down shirt for any way to get him closer to you.

Lando shifted in the driver seat, his hands holding your hips as his jeans brushed against your cunt.

You let out a moan into his mouth, and Lando took that as an opportunity to tongue kiss you; reaching up to grab the nape of your neck with one of his hands.

Pulling away slightly with a hum, you noticed Lando’s breathing to be slightly more erratic than before.

“Baby, I need you..” Your voice faded when Lando kissed you again. You knew you didn’t really have to say anything; Lando knew you like the back of his hand.

“I’ve got you.” Lando mumbled, guiding you to rest your knee up onto the door panel of his porsche. “Stay like this for me, ok?”

You nodded, biting down onto your bottom lip as he locked eye contact with you.

Lando quickly glanced in his rearview mirror to check if anyone was around; still nobody.

He pulled the fabric of your underwear to the side, audibly groaning at how easily his middle and ring finger slipped inside of you.

You let out a whimper, squeezing onto his bicep for some stability.

“Oh my fuck, why didn’t I take you home?” Lando was talking to himself, because there was no way you were going to answer him.

There was absolutely no space between the two of you, as this car was not ideal.

You could hear the squelching noise coming from underneath you, making you look down; covering your mouth to stifle your moans. There was nothing that Lando hated more than when you hid from him.

“Get that hand off of your mouth, sweetheart.” Lando spoke, slipping a third finger into your cunt; knowing you’d react.

“Good girl, gonna cum for me?” Lando asked, kissing your jaw and down towards your collarbone. “Hmm?”

You were breathless, but still managed to use your words. “No.” You paused, your voice sounding like a whimper, grabbing onto Lando’s shirt as you tried not to fall apart. “I need you to fuck me, please.”

“Fuck, are you sure?” He asked, his face centimeters from yours. Lando was taken aback at your forwardness, but willing to do anything you wanted.

You hummed, nodding before kissing him. You moved your hand down between your legs; feeling the now very prominent bulge in Lando’s jeans.

He let out a deep throaty groan at the contact. “Fuck.”

You tried to unbutton his jeans really fast, but with your position on his lap it wasn’t working.

“I got it, I got it.” Lando’s larger and more steady hand replaced yours as he worked his pants down to leave enough room for his cock.

You let out a sigh when you felt him teasing the head of his leaking cock against your folds. “I can’t believe we’re doing this here.”

“What?” Your voice was breathy as Lando gripped your hips to lower you down onto him. Your question was instantly replaced by a moan of his name.

“Nothing.” Lando grunted before throwing his head back. “God, how do you feel so fucking good?”

He still had a grip on your hips; hitting all of the right spots that drove you insane.

“Hmm- Fuck!” You cried out. “Right there, right there.”

“Shit.” Lando swore, letting go of you with one hand to have you look at him. “You’re cumming already?”

You eagerly nodded before Lando suddenly crashed his lips with yours. The kiss is sloppy; messy.

You could feel your thighs starting to ache, and a tinge of overstimulation when Lando applied pressure to your clit with the pads of his fingers.

Gasping, you pulled away from the kiss, swearing under your breath as Lando was pulling another orgasm from you so quickly as you still fucked yourself on his cock.

“You can give me one more, yeah?” His voice was low as his hot breath ghosted your face. “Make a fucking mess out of my car.”

In your attempts to slam down onto him harder, your rhythm faltered as you came again. Your legs were now shaking as you clenched around Lando’s cock.

The sun was almost down, making it somewhat difficult to see his reaction; but you had an inkling that he had to be close.

“Lando…” Your voice was a slight whimper again, making Lando wince. “Cum in me, please.”

“God im close, im really fucking close.” Lando spoke, sucking in a shallow breath through gritted teeth.

It wasn’t too long after that he finally reached his peak, nearly holding you down on his lap as he grunted expletives as he tried to be as quiet as possible.

“Lando…” you winced as you already felt the mess between your legs. “Stay inside of me like this.” You leaned into him, resting your head on his heaving chest.

“We can’t stay here.” You could tell Lando was smirking by the way his voice sounded. One of his hands smoothed out your hair before he kissed the top of your head. “I know you’re tired, but we can’t.”

“I know.” You huffed, exaggerating a pouty attitude. “You’re so warm.” You kissed Lando near his mouth a few times, making him scrunch his nose.

Finally you sat up, letting Lando help you off of his lap and into the passenger seat. The two of you fixed your clothing before Lando leaned over the center console to kiss you.

“Okay, take me home.”

[jungwnies]

F1 GRID | the end of the season '24

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri ୨ৎ : synopsis : quiet nights at the hotel after a long race

୨ৎ : genre : some are happy & some are sad ୨ৎ : tws : none ୨ৎ : word count : 2531

୨ masterlist ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : i am so proud of lando for being able to secure that wcc for mclaren, but i am SO sad seeing carlos drive in red for the last time, and seeing lewis have his last drive with mercedes :c

ʚ・max verstappen

the post-race buzz of abu dhabi had faded, leaving a quiet calm in max's hotel suite. he sprawled on the sofa, phone in hand, scrolling through memes with that trademark deadpan expression. p6 wasn't great—definitely not how he wanted to wrap the season—but the world championship trophy on his shelf said it all. he was untouchable, even on an off day.

you dropped onto the couch next to him, giving him a small smile. "not quite the result we were hoping for, huh?"

he tilted his head, barely fazed. "meh. one bad race doesn’t erase a good season." he tossed his phone onto the table, already over it. "at least now i don’t have to hear the word 'tyre degradation' for a while."

"exactly," you agreed, nudging his arm. "just endless beaches, lazy mornings, and maybe some sketchy tourist traps."

he smirked, his eyes lighting up for the first time all evening. "knowing you, that probably means camel racing or some falcon photo op where i end up holding a bird for instagram."

you laughed. "don’t pretend like you wouldn’t secretly enjoy it."

"maybe," he admitted with a faint grin. "but only if there’s good food after. priorities, you know?"

as you leaned into his side, you felt the tension melt away from him. the season was done, the pressure gone. and for once, max verstappen, the reigning world champion, was just a guy on a couch, ready to trade apexes for sunsets and podiums for bad tourist selfies.

ʚ・lewis hamilton

a bittersweet stillness filled the room—p4 after starting sixteenth was nothing short of remarkable, but tonight marked the end of an era. his last race with mercedes. the silver star that had defined his legacy, his dominance, was now in the rearview mirror.

you leaned into him, your head resting lightly on his shoulder. "what a drive, lewis," you murmured, pride laced in your voice. "it was magic out there, just like always."

he smiled faintly, his gaze fixed on the city lights beyond the window. "it felt good, you know? pushing through the field like that. it’s how i want to remember this team—fighting, always fighting." his voice was steady, but there was a weight behind it, a depth only you could hear.

"it’s hard to see this chapter end," you said softly, running your fingers along the edge of his hand. "so many years, so much history. but watching you today—watching you fight with every ounce of heart you’ve got—it’s impossible not to feel proud."

he turned to you then, his eyes warm, a quiet fire still flickering in them. "it’s sad, yeah. mercedes is family. but every journey has its end, and every end makes way for something new. it’s time. time for a new challenge."

you smiled, squeezing his hand. "and ferrari red will suit you, no doubt about it."

that earned a laugh from him, light but genuine, his shoulders finally easing. "we’ll see. it’ll be... different. but i’m ready for different. i have to be."

"you’ll thrive," you said, meeting his gaze with steady confidence. "because that’s who you are, lewis. you don’t just race—you redefine what’s possible."

he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "and having you by my side, that makes it all the better."

the evening stretched on as you reminisced about mercedes—about the victories, the struggles, the growth. there was sadness, yes, but also hope, an electric anticipation for the future. ferrari would be a new challenge, but lewis hamilton was built for challenges. and you? you’d be there, through it all, cheering him on as he wrote the next chapter of his already legendary story.

ʚ・george russell

the air in george’s hotel room was thick with emotions. lewis—his teammate, his mentor, his benchmark—was leaving for ferrari. the weight of it sat heavily on his shoulders, a silent pressure he hadn’t quite found the words to unpack.

you settled beside him on the bed, your hand resting lightly on his back. "you drove brilliantly today, george," you said softly, your tone filled with pride.

he gave you a faint smile, though his usual spark was dimmed. "thanks. it’s just... weird, you know? lewis not being here next season. he's been... well, everything. a teammate, a rival, someone to learn from."

"it’s a huge change," you agreed, your voice gentle. "but today, you showed exactly what you’re made of. you didn’t just race—you fought, george. and everyone saw it."

he turned to look at you, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. "but can i really lead this team now? without him?"

you met his gaze firmly, your conviction unwavering. "you don’t have to be lewis, george. you’ve already proven you're your own kind of leader—sharp, determined, and always hungry for more. you don’t need to fill anyone’s shoes because you’re carving out your own legacy."

his shoulders relaxed slightly, the tension giving way to a spark of confidence. "it’s just... lewis set such a high bar. and stepping into that space—it’s a lot."

"you don’t need to step into his space," you reminded him with a reassuring smile. "you’ve earned your own, george. you’ve fought for it, and you’re more than ready to take the reins."

he took a deep breath, the weight on his chest easing as resolve began to take its place. "this is my chance, isn’t it? to really prove myself."

"absolutely," you said, squeezing his hand. "and i’ll be right here, every step of the way, cheering for you."

his smile widened, more genuine this time, and he leaned in to kiss you softly. "thank you, love" he murmured. "that means everything."

as the night stretched on, you stayed by his side, feeling his determination grow stronger with each passing moment. george russell was ready to rise, ready to lead, and ready to show the world exactly why he belonged at the front of the pack. and you couldn’t wait to witness it all.

ʚ・carlos sainz

arlos sank onto the balcony of his hotel suite, the cool night air brushing against his skin, a sharp contrast to the adrenaline and heat of the race. it his last race with ferrari, the team that had become more than a job.

you slipped behind him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, resting your chin lightly on him. "carlos," you said softly, your voice thick with emotion, "you were amazing today. truly incredible."

he let out a quiet sigh, leaning back into your embrace, his eyes fixed on the city lights. "yeah, it was a good one. but leaving ferrari? that’s… it’s hard. really hard."

"i know," you murmured, your cheek pressing against his. "you and charles, ferrari… it felt like it fit, like it was meant to be."

he nodded slowly, a small, wistful smile tugging at his lips. "we were a good team, weren’t we? two competitive guys who somehow managed not to kill each other every weekend," he joked, though his voice carried a faint sadness. "but, ah, next season? it’s going to feel strange not seeing his stupid smile in the garage."

you chuckled softly. "but you’ll always have the memories," you reminded him. "and you’ll make new ones, new rivalries, new podiums."

he turned to look at you, his warm brown eyes meeting yours. "do you remember my first race with ferrari?" he asked, a grin breaking through the sadness. "lando was on the podium with me. and now he’s here again for my last one. crazy, no?"

"it’s like the universe has a sense of humor," you said, your smile mirroring his. "full circle moments like that don’t just happen by chance."

he laughed softly, his shoulders relaxing a bit. "yeah, maybe. or maybe it’s just one of those little things that reminds me to enjoy the journey."

you held him close, knowing how much leaving ferrari meant to him. the passion, the heart, the pure determination he’d poured into every single lap. but you also knew that carlos was unstoppable—wherever he went, whatever he faced, he would find his way to the top.

"wherever you go, whatever happens," you said, your voice steady and filled with love, "i’ll be right there, cheering you on."

his arms wrapped around you, pulling you in tightly. "i know," he whispered, his voice thick with gratitude. "and that’s what keeps me grounded. thank you, mi amor."

ʚ・charles leclerc

the roar of the abu dhabi crowd had faded, leaving only the soft hum of the air conditioning in charles’ hotel room. he sat on the edge of the bed, eyes fixed on the trophy for his third-place finish. starting p19 after that engine penalty, clawing his way up to the podium—it was an extraordinary drive. but there was a weight in his gaze, a shadow of disappointment.

you sat beside him, your hand finding his. "charles," you said gently, your voice full of admiration, "that was incredible. you were on fire out there."

he offered a small smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "it wasn’t enough," he muttered, his voice heavy with frustration. "we were so close to the WCC... but mclaren just had too much."

"you did everything you could," you assured him, squeezing his hand. "no one could have driven that race better. you started from the back, charles. and you still ended up on the podium. that’s... that’s amazing."

he ran a hand through his hair, sighing deeply. "i know, i know. it's just hard. we were so close. it stings."

you gently cupped his face, lifting his chin so his eyes met yours. "charles leclerc, you are one of the best out there. don’t let this one race make you forget everything you've accomplished this season. you fought for every position, you never gave up, and you made us all proud."

a real smile tugged at his lips, the weight on his shoulders easing slightly. "thank you," he whispered, leaning into your touch. "i needed that."

there was a brief pause, and a flicker of sadness passed through his eyes. "it’s gonna be strange without carlos next year," he said quietly, his voice low.

you felt a pang for him. you knew how close he and carlos were, both on and off the track. "i know," you murmured, your heart aching. "but you'll still have him as a friend. and you’ll both keep achieving incredible things."

he nodded slowly, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "he’s like a brother to me. it won’t be the same without him."

you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close. "i know it won’t," you whispered, running your fingers through his hair. "but i know you ,charles. you'll adapt. you’ll keep shining."

he held you tighter, drawing comfort from your embrace, "what would i do without you mon amour."

you let out a soft laugh and place a gentle peck on his lips, "you'd probably be a mess without me, i love you."

"i love you too." he told you, snuggling closer.

ʚ・lando norris

the echoes of the abu dhabi celebrations had finally faded, leaving a peaceful quiet in lando's hotel suite. he was sprawled on the sofa, the trophy resting on his chest, his eyes half-closed as a contented sigh escaped his lips. the excitement from the victory was still buzzing inside him, but a calm had settled in, like he was finally letting everything sink in.

you curled up beside him, your finger tracing the lines of the trophy. "still can't believe it, huh?" you whispered, a soft smile on your face.

lando chuckled, a grin tugging at his lips. "yeah, it's still kinda crazy. like, i feel like i'm dreaming, but don't wanna wake up."

"you were amazing today, lando," you said, your voice filled with pride. "and the whole season, really. you led mclaren to victory. it’s historic."

he grinned, his eyes lighting up. "yeah, it really is, isn’t it? bringing mclaren back to the top after all this time... feels unreal. but in the best way possible."

"you deserve all the praise," you reassured him, snuggling closer. "you’ve worked so hard, and you’ve grown so much as a driver. i'm so proud of you."

he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you in closer. "couldn’t have done it without you, honestly," he murmured, his voice warm. "you’ve been with me through all of it—my biggest supporter."

"and i always will be," you promised, feeling your heart swell. "through the wins, the losses, i’ll be right here."

he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft kiss. "and that's all i need," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

as you lay together, bathed in the soft glow of the hotel room lights, the weight of his achievement settled in. lando norris, the man who led mclaren to the top of the world again, securing the WCC after 26 years. this moment, this victory, would be something you both would remember forever. the future was bright, and you couldn’t wait for the next adventure—together.

ʚ・oscar piastri

back in the comfort of his hotel room, oscar kicked back with a grin plastered on his face, the adrenaline from the race replaced by his usual playful energy. p10 wasn’t the podium he’d wanted, but who cared? mclaren had just clinched the WCC, and that was more than enough for him.

“we did it!” he shouted, arms thrown up in the air, his grin wider than ever. “champions, baby!”

you chuckled, shaking your head at his excitement. “you guys were incredible today, oscar. especially lando, bringing home the win.”

“yeah, lando was on fire!” oscar agreed, grabbing a celebratory drink from the minibar. “though, i wouldn’t mind a podium myself…” he paused, a glint of mischief lighting up his eyes. “if it weren’t for someone deciding to use my car as a brake early on.”

you raised an eyebrow, trying to hide your smile. “ah, yes. max verstappen. saw that incident. bit of a rough start, huh?”

“rough is putting it lightly,” oscar grumbled with a smirk, taking a swig of his drink. “the guy treated me like a bowling pin! swear i saw stars, maybe even a few constellations.”

“well, you can’t deny it made for some exciting racing,” you teased, nudging him playfully.

“exciting for you, maybe,” he shot back with a grin. “i was just trying to survive out there! dodging debris, angry drivers... felt like a demolition derby.”

“but you made it through,” you pointed out. “and you contributed to the team’s victory. that’s what counts.”

he gave a dramatic nod, his humor returning full force. “true, true. who needs a podium when you’ve got bragging rights for surviving a verstappen torpedo?”

you burst out laughing, unable to hold back. “that’s the spirit babe."

as laughter filled the room, you couldn’t help but admire oscar’s resilience and ability to keep things light, even when things didn’t go his way. he might’ve been a little salty about the verstappen incident, but he was genuinely happy for the team, and that’s what made him such an asset. next season was going to be one to remember, and you couldn’t wait to see what this rising star would achieve.

© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate

[kayawolfhorse]

He sticks around for a while after the disappointment of his failed trap. There’s no one left to sue him over it.

The blood is just starting to crust over where it clings to Joel’s scabbard, and it flakes upon his skin. His clothing is still filthy, but it hardly matters—the grime is of this server, and will remain with it when he leaves.

Sunset blankets the world in fiery oranges and brilliant pinks, dripping darkness like spilled ink across cliff sides and into pocket-marked craters. In its wake, without the chaos of the wild cards, in the absence of any living thing, the silence is near-deafening. Joel sighs once, loudly, just to fill the space, and does it again when he thinks about how it’d annoy Jimmy if he were still here.

The bridge to the base is remarkably intact, and the planks creak beneath Joel’s steps. He spares Gem’s empty cobbled barn a fleeting glance and reminds himself that he’ll see her soon as he marches up to his car and sets about ridding his inventory of unnecessary junk in the grass next to it.

He can practically hear Grian’s insistence that he get on with it already, but one of them is dead, and the other has a car to fix, so Joel effectively banishes the thought and pokes his tongue out in the vague direction of the sky above him.

Joel works through the night. Exploded as it had been, just about every part of the car needs repairing. The exterior comes easily enough, and it’s by torchlight that he reconstructs the engine, using up the last stores of his and Gem’s iron before raiding Etho’s waterlogged chests to finish the job.

Just before dawn is about to break, Joel slides into the driver’s seat and gives the keys a turn. The engine sputters for a moment before roaring to life. Joel grins.

It’s a bumpy ride through the center of the map, and Joel doesn’t want to talk about the times he had to rapidly construct a bridge across the rivers to get across. Once the ruined bases are confined to his rearview mirror and all that stretches before him is unmarred terrain, he floors it, giving a whoop in delight as the speedometer climbs higher and higher.

The blue shimmer of the world border overtakes the frame of the windshield. The pale morning sun has just started its ascent. Joel pushes forwards, hands tight against the wheel, teeth clenched firmly together. Thirty blocks, twenty blocks, five blocks away—

Joel slams through the border to the sound of shattering glass, and his vision goes black all at once.

—☾—

“For the record, that should not have worked,” Grian says. “And did you really have to bring that here?”

Joel’s not entirely sure where here is. Grian looks mostly corporeal, though his edges waver like the illusion of water against hot pavement, and Joel himself feels pretty solid, but all around them is vast nothingness. Pearl and Scott are bright flashes of red and blue somewhere behind Grian, and Joel can just barely make out Martyn and Scar further back.

It’s a little dizzying, honestly, and Joel quickly resolves to not look down. Despite the nausea that threatens to bubble up his throat, he makes no move to stop the smirk that spreads across his face. He gives the car’s hood at his side an affectionate pat, and is smug as he says, “Much like family, the car is forever, Grian.”

Grian buries his face in his hands.

[rememberwren]

/•Harmless Fun•\

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Further Parts

Exactly what it says on the tin. Established ghoap, bringing in fem!reader roommate. Poor writing. Reader has had any identifying features removed, but she owns a Ford Fiesta. Take that as you will. Just testing to see if there is interest in a lighthearted fun sexy fic like this. 🩶

*

“Remember. You’re desperate,” you muttered to yourself looking at your reflection in the rearview mirror of your tiny Ford Fiesta. The ink might as well still be fresh on the ad your roommate printed off for you (the perfect symbol of her guilt for moving back in with her boyfriend and forcing you to find a new apartment and new roommates in the first place).

The ad reads as thus: WANTED: ANY GENDER WELCOME to fill the second bedroom in a 2b/2ba 1290sq ft apartment. DOWNTOWN. In-building laundry. Utilities and rent split EVENLY amongst 3. NO FASCISTS, NO HOMOPHOBES.

It was the most promising ad you had seen after days of scouring the internet in your every spare moment (usually reserved for those moments when you were on break during shifts, feet and back aching, hating your life OR at the end of a long day when the post-sunset depression hit with all the force of a typhoon). Any two people who were against fascism and homophobia were alright in your book. As for the finer details—well. You were desperate. You were going to have to overlook any skeletons in their closets, as long as those skeletons weren’t literal.

I’m texting about the apartment downtown. Is this the right number?

Yeah, you’ve got it. Nice to text ya. You’re interested?

Very. Is there somewhere we could meet to discuss the details?

We don’t mind showing the apartment. Got a few others coming to see it as well. You cursed up a storm reading over that particular text, so much so that your roommate’s boyfriend knocked angrily on the thin walls separating your bedrooms. Scowling, you knocked back—a little too angry to be mistaken for conciliatory. You blamed that bastard for your troubles in the first place.

I’ll see it ASAP, if that’s okay.

Go-getter. How soon can you be here?

Which is how you found yourself in the parking lot of the building, hastily combing hairs back into place, hoping for some semblance of presentability. If only there was a way to hide the desperation in your eyes…

The apartment complex itself is everything you could have hoped for. It even has an indoor pool, which is a step up from the facilities offered at your own apartment. The rent is a little higher than what you were pulling at your old place, but you think you can manage it if you cut back on excess frivolities. And any joy. (Joy costs)

There’s a doorman even—an honest to god doorman! He instructs you on the way to the elevators, and you take them up to the top floor, feeling your ears pop from the change in altitude. By the time you’re standing in front of their door, your knees are knocking together, terrified of who you might be meeting. Even more terrified that they might not like you, that they might say no—

—and the door opens, shattering any expectation you have. The man standing there is undoubtedly, ungodly, unseemly, obscenely hot. His head nearly brushes the frame of the door, blond hair wild and mussed, like he’s just had the fuck of his life. He’s thick, too, muscles on muscles along his corded forearms, bared by the dark tee that stretches across his chest.

He is pale and dark eyed and frowning down at you so sternly that you are convinced you have knocked on the wrong door. God help you. It’s all an honest mistake—but then his gravelly, softly-accented voice says: “You’re here about the apartment?”

Your heart nearly stops. This is the person who owns the apartment? How could you be expected to live alongside this behemoth? Just as you are about to tuck tail and run, a hand grips the man’s shoulder and gently tugs him aside and another specimen—two of them! two!—appears. This one has his hair cropped in a Mohawk, his eyes a deep drown-worthy blue. A few inches shorter, he is just as impressive shape. He beams at you.

“Well!” he says, leaning on the door frame in a way that fetchingly shows off the cut muscles of his arm and chest. His voice is accented too, something rougher, different than the taller man’s. “You aren’t what I was expecting. Unless yer just a wee fascist.”

You blink. You had been thinking the very same. Your hackles rise on instinct, bristling in preemptive outrage. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“We’ve had a type answering the ad,” the other man says dryly. “Johnny doesn’t mean nothing. Come in—if you’re still interested in the apartment.”

It crosses your mind that this is perhaps foolish: entering an apartment of strange men, regardless of how you had left the address with your roommate and specified a time to check in with her. But you’re desperate. So you slip in after them, Johnny making ample room for you to move past him in the doorway.

When you do, you smell his shower gel, something woodsy. You say a prayer that you aren’t drooling.

Your eyes roam over the open-concept apartment. The living room and kitchen are combined, larger than you might have imagined. It is homier, too, for a place where two men live: there are pictures along the walls, potted plants in the corners and on the desk, and an easel overlooking the balcony in the corner, an oil half-rendering of the view outside.

It is tidy. It smells nice. It is owned by two of the hottest men you’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing.

“I want it,” you blurt out.

Johnny laughs. “Sure ya do. Let us show you everything and then we’ll talk.”

You barely manage to contain your impatience as they lead you room to room. The guest room is empty, except for some boxes that Johnny hastily promises can be moved. The closets have no skeletons (you check). You would have your own bathroom. The more you see, the more convinced you are that this would be an ideal apartment regardless of who was offering it to you, but the frequent banter between the two men (Johnny and Simon you find out) is so entertaining and inviting that it’s hard not to feel like they want you—to be their third. Roommate that is.

After every nook and cranny of the apartment has been seen, they seat themselves on the loveseat and you on the adjacent armchair, your fingers interlaced like a businesswoman about to make the deal of her lifetime.

“I still want the room,” you admit. Johnny smiles, an expression that you sense comes easily to his face. His smile falls a little when you continue: “I just have one question. Why the vacancy?”

Simon takes a measured breath. The silence grows thick as they share a glance, communicating silently in a way that only two who have known each other—who have been through things with each other—can. At length, he says: “We’re ex-military. Disabled.”

That explained the cane Johnny had been using to move around the apartment.

“The benefits were excellent until recently, when we saw a generous…cut to our monthly pay.”

You frown. “That’s terrible. Why would they do that?”

Johnny gives a breathless little laugh. His hand comes down slowly to rest on Simon’s knee. You stare, unsure what you are seeing. “Well, it happens…when you get married.”

-

“That explains a lot,” your roommate says when you spill every little detail after driving home. By the time you arrive, her insufferable boyfriend is gone for the night (thank God) so it is just the two of you, like the good old days. “Namely why two men in a two bedroom apartment are looking for a roommate.”

“I didn’t even think of it,” you groan, palming at your eyes. “Am I homophobic?”

“No, just desperate and wishful,” she teases. She has no idea how accurate she is. It’s been years—literal years since you’ve been with anyone of substance. In the meantime, you’d been happy to settle for your fingers and your toys, but there was the occasional itch that only a cock could scratch in you. Figuratively. “This is a good thing though. The last thing you need is getting tangled up with your new roommates. That’s a recipe for disaster.”

“Instead I’ll be in the middle of their marital bliss. Or lack of, depending on the day,” you suggest dryly. But you aren’t even sure how much you believe your own words. Simon and Johnny said they had been together for nearly ten years, and more than their words, you had seen them with your own eyes—the way they gravitated to each other, the way their eyes were never far from each other. The way they roasted each other so good-naturedly. They seemed like a couple who were past their seven year itch, who had grown older and comfortable with each other. They seemed like they had their shit together.

Did it make you terrible that you still wanted to be pinned between them like a bug in a science project?

“Then tell them no,” she says, sitting on the edge of your bed. You see the guilt in her eyes, and it makes you just a little vindicated. Which makes you feel terrible. “You’ll find something. I promise. You could always stay with us until you do—“

“God no. No offense.”

“None taken. I think.”

You sigh. You nudge her with your foot. “Alright, out, I need to think.”

But it takes such little thought when Johnny (affectionately added to your phone) messages not ten minutes later.

I don’t want to rush ya, but another person asked to see the apartment. Should I show them?

No way, you text. That room is mine.

[comatosebunny09]

kindle | leon k.

genre(s): romance, friends to lovers, modern au

warning(s): language, mutual pining, soft boi leon, stream of consciousness

Leon does these things that confuse the hell out of you while you’re on missions or around the office. You’re his partner—work partner—but sometimes you feel like a little more. More than the younger sibling caught beneath the shadow of an overbearing brother. 

You don’t really know where things are going because he’s made it glaringly obvious in the past that he doesn't mix work with pleasure. However, something’s clearly shifted in your relationship as of late. Yet, you can’t, for the life of you, pinpoint what it is or when it happened. 

Oftentimes, you catch him gazing at you in your peripheral, a fondness inhabiting his eyes like you’ve never seen with the slightest quirk to his lips. That softness remains when a battle-worn thumb swipes blood from your cheek or rubs grime from your jaw. 

Sometimes, he holds your chin between his fingers and tilts your head this way and that—much to your chagrin—to make sure you’re devoid of injuries. Though, you never miss how his irises glitter like the sunset against sea waves, and his lips part a little as he relinquishes the softest, most relieved sigh to the air. And sometimes, you stand like this for eons, confused yet enamored, until the wet garble of a zombie springs you two apart. 

You never miss how a cautious hand finds the small of your back while you’re hunched over paperwork at your desk. How it burns through the thickness of your blazer, causing your heart to work overtime. And Leon beams so boyishly, bowing over to swaddle you in his warmth and cologne as he quips how “you’ve got your work cut out for you.” Yet, as much as he hates filling out reports himself, he stays until the moon sits high in the sky to help you finish. 

He always walks you to your car afterwards, arguing that, shit yeah, you can handle yourself. You suplex the undead for a living. But he’d fling himself off a cliff if his dear partner got snatched up in the parking garage. And he always lingers around a little longer after you pull off, a tender smile cresting across his lips in your rearview mirror. 

But he’s your partner. He’s supposed to do things like that, right? 

Like, he’s supposed to bring you food when you forget to eat—which is quite often. He’s supposed to show up to your apartment to check on you on your days off, promising his company, booze, and terrible romcoms. Supposed to hold you in your bed until you surrender your consciousness to the pretty little girls of slumber. And maybe, just maybe, it’s standard for your partner to kiss you quietly behind your ear and embrace you tighter when you squirm and chuckle and sigh wistfully in your sleep.

Through the wispy haze and the grogginess and the darkness inhabiting your bedroom, you shift to gather his cheeks in your palms—maybe you’re awake. Perhaps you’re still lurking below the shadowy depths of sleep. Who knows—and you kiss him. Cautious, but you kiss him. And though he’s initially thrown off kilter by the suddenness of it all, he relaxes against the suppleness of your lips. And his brows furrow as if he’s waited millennia for this moment. And his throat crackles with a quieted, hoarse sound as his hands perch on your hips, drawing you ever closer until your wrists cross behind his neck, and—

And…

Well, this is totally normal. Right?

part 2 >>

[elikajinnie]

someone please tell me im not the only one whos thought of biker!enha. like imagine sunghoon on a fucking motorcycle i think i'd cry

Damn. You real for that anon, I'm on the train and now I can't stop thinking about it 😭 One of my old flings was a biker and this just sent me back. So allow me to indulge.

Read under the cut

Heeseung would honestly be the type of biker boyfriend who is romantic. Always letting you slip your arms around his waist as you sat behind him. On late-night rides, he would say shit like - “Hold tight, baby.” And look back at you just to make sure you were okay. If he was picking you up or something, he would be leaning against his bike with his helmet tucked under his arm, waiting for you.

---

Jungwon would be like all natural, like he wouldn't brag or be reckless or careless. “Safety first, you know?” Before slipping an extra helmet on you 😩 Fingers lingering under your chin to secure the strap. He loved to take you out for quiet rides, and at every stop, he’d pull you close, resting his forehead against yours and say something romantic like: “I could ride forever with you like this.”

--

Jake made riding a bike feel like freedom. He would be grinning ear to ear as you clung to him while the engine roared. He loved teasing you, revving the bike just to hear you yelp and laugh before he’d reassure you, “I’ve got you, babe. Trust me.” He would pull over to buy you snacks at diners and take cheesy photos of the two of you with his bike. To Jake, his motorcycle wasn’t just his only pride and love—it was you.

---

Jay’s biker boyfriend energy would be like a perfect show of confidence. But when you rode with him, you saw the softer side of Jay. He’d never start the bike until he made sure that you were comfortable. “If you’re not ready, I’m not moving,” he’d say. Jay loved to take you into the city at night, and he’d lean back against his bike, pulling you close to him under the stars, whispering, “No matter how fast I ride, my favorite place is here, with you.”

---

Sunghoon would be a quiet, confident biker boyfriend. He didn’t say much at first—just a quick “Hop on” with a grin—but once you were riding through the streets, the way he’d slow down for you or point out beautiful spots while saying how it reminded him of you, beautiful and romantic. Sunghoon had a habit of stealing quick glances at you in the rearview mirror and chuckling to himself when he saw your excited expression. When you got off the bike, he’d pull his helmet off dramatically, shaking his hair before looking at you with a smirk. “Don’t I look cool?” And, of course, you’d tease him back, though you knew he’d already won your heart.

---

Sunoo made being your biker boyfriend feel like being in a drama in the best way possible. He’d always make sure you felt safe and happy, adjusting your helmet for you with a teasing smile. “Can’t have my passenger princess looking anything less than perfect.” Sunoo loved taking you on rides at sunset, where he’d take breaks at scenic spots, pull out his phone to take candid pictures of you and the bike, saying, “It’s my two favorite things in one photo.”

---

Ni-ki brought excitement into every ride as your biker boyfriend. He was playful, always revving the bike a little louder when he saw you coming just to make you laugh and roll your eyes. “Ready for another ride, baby?” Before taking sharp turns, he would always yell, “Are you holding on tight?” Ni-ki had a knack for finding hidden places to stop—abandoned roads, graffiti-covered walls, or quiet lakes. You’d watch him lean casually against his bike, looking at you with a glint in his eye. “I’m not letting you off that easy. One more round?” And, of course, you could never say no.

[chososdiscordkitten]

Synopsis: Gojo tries to convince reader how fun traveling at night can be ;)

Pairing: Gojo x GN!Reader Content: EXHIBITIONISM, reader is kinda mean, oral (m), mentions of previous sexual acts but nothing in detail, VOYEURISM, cum eating, insinuating intercourse

Dedicated to this ask.

MDNI

Traveling with Gojo was always a hassle. Knowing he could technically teleport wherever he wanted. “I like spending time with you between our destinations.” he’d say in defense. 

He would claim he enjoyed the seemingly empty hours of stupid conversations on the road.

Road trips where you were forced to feed him snacks while he drove, watching the sunset in the rearview window as though you were living in some rom-com movie. 

Short 15-minute walks late at night when you stayed up too late and got hungry. 

Even if you had to spend too much time going through TSA just to get on a plane, you deemed obsolete. Satoru always liked the domesticity of acting like ordinary people for a few hours on a plane. Enjoying when you doze off and tip your head on his shoulder. 

And that’s what this was. Another unnecessary way of traveling.

Satoru had told you he wanted to take you to a strip of many shops that sold tasty treats. Only it was a few cities away, and he refused to teleport to it. “That’s part of it! You can’t just go get the sweets. You have to travel for them!” his defense was. 

Satoru had gotten the later train to leave the city, saying something along the lines of ‘We get there around 4am, and we can spend the whole day there.’ 

“Trains are romantic, don’t you think?” Sitting in front of you, on opposite sides of the table booth, with his hands flat on the top. You perked a brow, looking up from your phone and scoffing. 

“I think.. trains are a dated way of travel,” you muttered, looking back down to your phone with tired eyes. Satoru gave out a small giggle, knowing you were weary and fatigued from sitting in the uncomfortable chairs.

“If we had driven,” crossing your ankles as the corner of your lip perked, “maybe, we could’ve had some fun.” you mumbled with a soft grin, looking down at your phone. Hearing a lecherous giggle leave Satoru’s mouth. 

He hummed softly, leaning over on the table, “You wanna go find out where they keep the luggage?” he whispered, a smug smile on his lips. You placed your phone on the table, smiling sweetly at him. 

“No,” you spoke flatly, watching his expression fall with a pout on his lips. “You sit there and think about the consequences of your actions.” You scoffed, picking up your phone again and scrolling. 

Satoru looked out the window, watching the land zoom past him, then flashing his eyes, looking over to the opposite booth you were in. Noting it was empty, eyeing the dim lights above your head. A pensive smile on his lips as he conjured up ways to convince you to let up. 

You sighed, placing your phone on the table and pressing the back of your head onto the plush headrest, extending your legs and placing one between Gojo’s thighs. Right where the edge of his seat was. 

Holding your foot up as you ignored the sound of Satoru’s mind reeling up the idea he had deemed brilliant. His smile practically beamed as he inched his hand down to your ankle. 

Satoru was no angel when it came to showing his affection in public. He saw travel with you as a form of foreplay, knowing that even if people were around, they wouldn’t remember a seemingly affectionate couple. 

The first time he propositioned, it was on a plane, asking if you had ever fucked in the air To which you scoffed, ‘Those things are far too small for two people standing. Let alone for two people to fuck.’

Gojo proved you very, very wrong. 

Then came a time when you kept teasing him as he drove, sun setting- bordering on being gone as you unbuckled your seatbelt. Leaning over and playing with his unbusied hand. 

That ended with you jacking him off as he drove, kissing his ear and his temple as he kept two hands gripping the steering wheel. “Focus on driving, or else you’ll crash~” you giggled in his ear. 

Eventually, getting frustrated enough to pull over on the side of the empty highway and fuck you senseless. 

The walks you’d take late at night, the excuse of snacks was used whenever someone asked what you were doing out so late. The truth being, Satoru holding a little control in his pocket, watching you stutter over your own steps from vibrations. Finding thrill in knowing you had a little toy burrowed inside of you that he got to control.

Satoru liked traveling with you because the hours spent on the road seemed unreal. As though it was only the two of you held still in time. Quality time spent with you was all he asked for. 

But, the instances where things got hot and heavy only caused that little voyeur part in his brain to itch. The idea of potentially getting caught was exhilarating to Gojo. 

And here he was, thinking of how easily you could be caught here. Holding your ankle and moving it up his growing bulge slowly. Earning your eyes to snap open and look at the deranged man sitting across the table from you. 

You tried pulling your ankle from his palm, only for his grip to tighten with a prize-winning smile decorating his expression. You purse your lips, about to mutter a curse at him for what he was doing. 

That was till you felt the bottom of your socked sole press against his clothed erection. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at him like a mad man, “I didn’t even do anything..?” you spoke through clenched teeth. Referring to Gojo always blaming you for how reactive his cock was around you. 

He always blamed you for doing something that caused his member to rise. “You told me to think about the consequences of my actions-” he scoffed, his eyes lowering and holding your foot to his bulge. 

You shrugged softly, wanting to know what he would put the blame on this time, “You know how much I like when you talk to me like that.” slowly moving your foot to press firmer on his clothed erection. 

You nodded your head disapprovingly, a smug smile gracing your lips. Flashing your eyes to the side to see if the train attendants were near. “I already checked~” he grinned, loosening his grip on your ankle. 

“It’s almost empty- and the attendants don’t do their rounds right now.” Gojo spoke softly. In retaliation, you pressed your foot down the tiniest bit- causing Satoru to let out a choked whimper. 

“That so?” you whispered, curling your toes in the slightest and watching his eyebrows pinch up. Grinning sarcastically, “You researched the train attendant’s schedules?” pressing the arch of your socked foot onto his bulge and watching him writhe with squinted eyes. 

Satoru fluttered his eyes closed, pressing the back of his head onto the seat and sighing softly, “You’re getting off on this..?” you scoffed in disbelief, continuing the slow maneuver with your foot. He only smiled in response, crinkling his nose in the slightest when you’d apply more pressure. 

His fingers barely wrapped around your ankle, some kind of insurance to be sure you wouldn’t pull it away. Gojo’s cock shed small tears of precum onto his briefs from the small movements. 

You gasped quietly, watching the light blush on his cheeks spread down his neck. “You are, aren’t you?” you teased, seeing his closed eyes flex tightly. You scoffed as he parted his lips, coming dangerously close to letting out a small moan. 

The corner of your lip peaked in a smug half-smile, easing the pressure on his bulge and feeling his grasp on your ankle tighten again. “There’s not much I can do here, ‘toru.” you crooned in feigned pity. 

You pulled your ankle from his grasp and watched his eyes snap open, “Don’t want you to make a mess.” you excused softly. Seeing the slight pout form on his lip from your denial.

And it was true; there was nowhere for Satoru to spurt his mess. And as he was thinking of ways to solve this little issue, only you had already come up with a solution.

Getting handsy in the car, even fucking in a plane bathroom- all that was one thing. Being able to rely on the small amount of privacy, but what you were conjuring- 

Gojo looked off to the side, tapping his foot on the ground as he tried to think something up. Only by the time he looked back at you, you were already shifting off the seat and under the table. He furrowed his eyebrows with a meek smile- realizing that, like most of the time, you were always right. 

He let out a small giggle, looking down at his lap and seeing your hands creeping up his thighs. 

Getting frisky with a veil between you and other people was one thing. Still, what you were insinuating- there was a much higher chance of being caught than any of the other times. All it took was one person to look too closely under the table to see you kneeling. 

You traced your hand to his inner thigh, feeling the light shiver that ran through the muscle. Lip tucked between your teeth as you grazed your fingers on his caged cock. Hearing him let out a small whimper, looking up at him from the small space and shushing him. 

“You have to be quiet ‘toru,” you whispered with an overexcited grin. Reaching for the band of Gojo’s sweatpants and pulling it down, revealing his strained boxers with a darkening spot where his tip was. 

Satrou’s hands gripped the ledge of his seat, pressing his lips tightly against each other to not make any noise. 

You pursed your lips, blowing gently onto the damp spot of his briefs and feeling his legs shift on either side of your arms. Darting your tongue past your lips and leaning in, a stifled whimper fell from his taught lips as you dragged your tongue against his clothed shaft. 

Letting out a small laugh from your nose as you circled your tongue onto the damp spot where his tip was. Feeling his body twitch from the millimeter difference between your tongue and his cock. 

Satoru parted his lips with a slight huff, “You have to hurry- no teasing-” You pursed your lips against the fabric, kissing his veiled tip softly. Causing a shuddering inhale to escape his lungs. 

You smiled as you pulled away, teasingly, “I can just stop if you-” inching your hands onto his knees. 

“No, no-” he breathed, “Don’t stop.” he muttered, looking down to your glimmering eyes and parted lips. 

Trailing your hands back up his thighs, hooking your fingers onto the band of his ruined briefs, and pulling them down. Satoru winced at feeling the tug of the band against his shaft. 

Gojo gasped quietly when his tip almost touched the edge of the table. Placing a light hand on the base of his shaft, angling it down, and hearing his hands grip the seat harshly. Bracing for the warmth of your lips. 

You leaned your head down, lips parted and eyes looking up at his bordering-on pained expression. Placing warm, open-mouth kisses on his suede shaft, leaving light glimmers of your spit as his thighs trembled beside you. 

Gojo’s eyebrows were pinched upwards, bottom lip daring to tremble as you licked a long stripe from the underside of his base up to his pinkening tip. His wrists threatened to plant themselves on the side of your head, trembling as you pulled away. Your lips curl as you pursed them, pressing gentle kisses onto his leaking tip. 

Hearing a slight hum rumble from his lungs as you pulled away slightly, parting your lips and placing your tongue onto your bottom lip. 

Pressing his tip onto the flat of your tongue, sliding down ever so slightly before closing your lips on the edge of his cockhead. Earning a choked exhale to come from Satoru’s puffy lips.

Slightly pulsing your tongue up against the underside of his tip, inciting small huffs of air from his lips as you tighten your grasp on his shaft. Blinking your eyes up and watching his jaw dare to fall.

Circling your tongue on his tip in tandem with your other slow stroking hand on his shaft, holding your other hand on his thigh as you blinked your eyes closed. Softly sucking on his tip as you fisted his shaft. 

Satoru closed his eyes- tight. So tight he saw white dots in his vision, biting his lip hard enough to leave a mark. Bowing his head down, snapping his hand atop yours. Meeting on his thigh, trying his very best not to make a sound. 

Per his request, you wanted to make this as fast as possible. 

But, the tiny trembles of his hand against yours were enough to slowly lap at the tears falling from his cockhead. The stifled whimpers that were muffled from his lips were enough to drag out every stroke your hand made on his shaft.

Sucking in your cheeks around his head, bottom of your tongue licking small stripes on the little v beneath his cockhead. His knees threatened to snap you between them as the tip of your tongue swished up and down his cocks opening, earning an audible shuddering whimper to fall from his nibbled lips. 

The corner of your lips stretched into a smile around his cock, knowing if one whimper came out, more would follow. 

And as he exploits your most sensitive spots, just for a reaction- how unfair would it be if you didn’t do the same?

Humming small vibrations onto his tip, knowing that would coax another whimper from his strained vocal cords. And as you expected, he let out an unpermitted whimper. A lot louder than you were expecting and a lot more pathetic than the ones he would typically voice. 

The hand on his thigh was aching from how hard he was gripping onto you, even if you hadn’t done much. Satoru knew the thrill of doing this in public was what drove him further up his orgasm. 

And as Gojo felt the warmth in his tummy forcefully pool, he was about to mutter a warning. That was until he opened his eyes and saw a stewardess walking down the small walkway. 

He pinched his eyebrows, biting his lip almost too harshly as you stroked him. Looking down at you with panicked eyes as he heard the footsteps pass by him; only your eyes were closed. Too focused on teasing him to notice the distant pattering of steps, Satoru parted his lips with the quietest whimper he could muster. 

He tried murmuring your name as some kind of warning to advise you that he was- “I’m gonna c-” Satoru whispered as he exhaled with a higher pitch at the end of his warning. Only earning for your eyes to blink open as you sucked harshly on his tip. 

Gojo’s torso started lightly spasming as he felt you pull an orgasm out of him- eyebrows pinched together with an eye twitching closed. Lips parted in a quiet whine, and his cheeks beet red. 

His cockhead quivered between your lips as you stroked his shaft with a tenacious grip, working him through the orgasm as his seed slowly oozed from his tip. 

Your tongue greedily lapped up the hot tears of white- replaying the ‘Don’t want you to make a mess.’ in your mind as you swallowed his essence. 

Coating the cavern of your mouth with a light film as he fought off the whimpers and whines you dared him to spill. 

Satoru tried coming down from the pinnacle you threw him off- only your mouth and fist refused to let up. 

Stroking him relentlessly as his hips started to shift in his seat. He looked down at you, nose crinkled with squinted eyes. Feeling your gluttonous tongue lap up any drop that your hand milked from his cock. 

All but telling him with your tongue that you wanted to be sure he wouldn’t make a mess. 

His cock tried to soften in your mouth- but your lips had other plans. Satoru started writhing in his seat, snapping his hands onto the side of your head and pulling you from his cock- too afraid he wouldn’t be able to control his pretty sounds if you kept on. 

Looking down at you- lips puffy and pink, hazy cerulean eyes, and his blush so intense, it looked like he was in the middle of July. 

You grinned, feeling his thumb caress the edge of your jaw, pressing on the tip of your chin, coaxing you to open. To make sure you did as you said you would. 

His nose crinkled in appeasement, a half fucked out smile on the corner of his perching lips. Admiring the way you opened your mouth and slipped your flat tongue out. Showing him you swallowed, getting rid of any evidence or mess he would’ve left had you continued with your arches. 

You assisted in placing his semi-soft cock back into his briefs, patting his thighs before you slipped back up into your seat. 

Smiling at him with half-lidded eyes and crossed arms. Being able to see his expression, his eyes shouting at you for more. 

You pressed your thighs together, watching his shoulders tense. “You wanna go find out where they keep the luggage?” you flashed a toothy smile, watching his eyes light up and nod excitedly. Scoffing with a warm grin as you slipped your shoes back on. 

And in that moment, you thought that maybe- just maybe Satoru had a point in how exciting traveling really was.

-

(a.n) I wanna eat him.

[daycourtofficial]

Loving parents, harmless fun

Pairing: Modern!Eris x Rhysand’s sister!reader | WC: 950 | warnings: none

Summary: slice of life gingerfucker where Eris takes his family on a roadtrip and is only slightly annoyed at his son’s choice of car game

Note: this is a part of my gingerfucker series and is for AU day for @erisweekofficial ❤️

“That’s my cow.”

Atlas’s voice rang through the car, a high pitch of excitement to his words as his finger pointed out the window, Leif’s eyes tracking the movement. Eris paid no attention to either of his sons, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Those are my chickens.”

It was a four hour drive to his in-laws house, to see his wife’s brother and his family. He counted down from ten in his head, trying to remind himself that holidays are supposed to be fun. The car was silent as he leaned his head back, his fingers curling around the steering wheel. The soft sounds of Bon Iver came from the speakers, an album that reminds him of cold, dark drives he took in the winters of his youth. It was a rare occasion - no one was begging for him to play Alvin and the Chipmunks or songs about ducks.

There was enough daylight for them to arrive at their destination before sunset, which gave him hope that maybe Atlas wouldn’t stay up too late tonight. Leif had a strict internal clock - he did most things at the exact same time each day. But his oldest, Atlas, was a mystery, his body having no internal clock for him to follow, leaving Eris clueless as to when he would fall asleep or wake up.

Eris maneuvered their vehicle through the curves of the road, taking in how beautiful the pastures around him were. It was the end of autumn when the vibrance of the leaves are going, occasional glimpses of the red and orange hues that he loved seeing so much. Atlas’s excited yell disrupted the too short peace. “That’s my cow!”

“If I have to hear him decide farm animals are his one more time,” Eris trailed off, his annoyance bubbling, his voice low so only you could hear.

“It was your brother who taught him the game.”

Eris didn’t turn to see the smirk on your face, he could tell by your voice that you were amused by Lucien’s never-ending knowledge of what buttons to push to annoy Eris.

It was a simple game - you see a cow, you claim it. It was cute when they were in the city - Atlas would see cows in billboards and claim them. Out in the country where the cows outnumbered the people - less fun.

“I don’t think he should be allowed near children ever again.”

“Oh yeah? Because he’s like every other uncle the kids have and likes to pay attention to them before teaching them annoying games?”

“My thoughts exactly. He’s also annoying so it means I’d see him less.”

“My cows.”

Atlas broke up your conversation, The quip Eris was sure you had ready dying on the tip of your tongue as his anger flared.

“Where are we - cow country?”

“Yes. You insisted we take back roads so the kids would have more sights. And to delay us getting to Rhysand’s.”

Eris should be surprised you saw through his reasoning for adding forty-five minutes to the drive, but he should know better than to think his wife doesn’t see to the root of all of his actions. The main reason you all were driving instead of flying to Rhysand’s home was simple - he wanted an easy escape. If you were flying, flights are planned and you have to wait for the plane. But if you have your car, you can just leave whenever Eris grows frustrated at his annoying in-laws. Or he can make an excuse for a reason to leave.

“My cows.” Leif’s first cows. You cooed, a soft “good job, Leif” whispered to him. Eris could see the tips of his hair from the rearview mirror, but he knew Leif was glowing in the praise from you.

“Why are we visiting again?”

“Because Feyre had their new baby.”

“Oh, that.” He practically deflated in his seat at how good the reason was for going, hoping that somehow the reason had changed and you could all turn around.

“Eris don’t act like you don’t love Nyx.”

He felt the eyeroll before it happened, slowly coming up on a red light. His wife was right - Nyx was an adorable kid who was very good, despite being half Rhysand and spending a good portion of his time with his uncle Cassian.

“My bird.”

Eris sighed through his nose. The car moved past a cemetery and Eris pointed out the window, “look, all of your cows are dead.”

Gasps were heard from all around him as if he just announced something outlandish. You slapped his arm, causing him to wince. “Eris,” his name was a hiss from your mouth, your eyes focused on him and not looking back at your sons. “They’re sensitive about that.”

Your words were mumbled, the sound having to work past your closed jaw to make it to Eris so the boys wouldn’t hear you.

“They’re fine,” he mouthed back to you, trying his best not to coddle them. It was a tricky line - one he needed frequent help navigating. Having a shitty father isn’t really the best role model for a man. A deep insecurity of his - was he being a regular dad or was he being too harsh? His train of thought was interrupted by Atlas’s hands hitting the car window, desperate for everyone’s attention.

“A hospital! My cows are alive again!”

Eris rolled the car to a stop at the red light, his forehead hitting the steering wheel.

“I thought I had won.”

A hand reached out to rub his back for a moment before he lifted his head, waiting for the light to change to green. The car moved forward, a family undeterred.

“My cow.”

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Eris taglist: @magicstrengthandcourage @panther-girl-124

[dyingfeline]

a look back

[abilouwrites]

DONT WAIT FOR THE TIDE

JUST TO DIP BOTH YOUR FEET IN

“You really wanna go on a road-trip?” I ask Buck as he throws a duffel into his Jeep and then more gently tucks my duffel next to his, I look out at the cold greys and harsh blues in the sky. The clouds threaten to launch a downpour any moment, “it’s the middle of December Buck”

“Yeah, yeah it’ll be good for us to get out of town for a while. See the coast. San Fran and Santa Cruz” He rambles, I’ve seen him rushing but he’s never been so eager to kick it before.

“Buck I lived in San Jose, I know all those places. I’ve been there before. What’s this really about?” I inquire as he opens my door and helps me in then proceeds to jump into the drivers side and we speed off.

“I just, everything at work has been so crazy lately and I just need to blow town for a little while. And I thought, why don’t I do that with my favorite lady who knows all the best spots” he reasons brushing through his loose curls as we slow at a traffic light.

“Ok..” I shrug a little; I’ve been with this man long enough to know when to push and when to not, “how’s Eddie doing?” I ask, “losing his wife must’ve been hard” I pick my knee up and place my feet on the dash before Buck swats them down, “I’m in my socks!”

“That is how you break your pelvis and your legs so feet where they go babe” He corrects gently, moves a hand from the wheel to gently caress my thigh. Covered in my Stanford crewneck and leggings with my fuzzy Christmas socks on. I’m a little more comfortable than if I was in jeans and a hoodie.

“Alright alright, but Chris is good?” I ask turning my head as he looks at the GPS.

“Yeah, he misses his mom and Eddie’s shut down a little bit but I think with some therapy he might start coming back.. Athena and Bobby have been helping out with dinners n stuff” he explains, checking over as he merges into the freeway.

“That’s good, god I love those two. Real good people” I nod a little shifting in my seat as Buck continues driving.

“I was thinking, Santa Cruz, we go see your parents, San Fran, then drive back. Skip LA and just head straight to San Diego?” He asks looking over. Just a peeking glance at my expression before he turns his attention back to the road.

“Buck, y’know I love you but it’s gonna be freezing in San fran and Santa Cruz and driving past home Buck what’s up? I’m gettin worried” I peek over at him, seeing a large sigh from his chest.

“I’m scared. To go back. That I’ll get hurt again. Or someone else will get hurt again. I’m starting to think I’m just full of bad luck” He breathes a little looking in the rearview mirror before speeding up slightly.

“Oh” I don’t really have anything to say, no words to comfort him, no piece of advice to say ‘I’d been there, I know how you feel’ because I don’t know how he feels. I don’t know what it’s like to die on the job, or to see my friends face death, “I can’t tell you that I’ve been there and give you advice” I admit, “baby, the best I can do for you is to tell you that I’m here for you. And we have about six hours for you to tell me all about your feelings”

I see a faint smile and he shakes his head, “nah, I don’t need you to be my therapist, but I appreciate it.. more than you know” He tugs at his earlobe and sits back a little.

We sit in silence, I’ve got my AirPods in and watching the view. Bucks hand shifts from the steering wheel to my thigh where he just holds it.

We arrive in Santa Cruz at sunset, the beach is cold and the sand pricks at my toes as I slip my socks off, “come on bucky” I smile a little, it’s been years since I’ve been to this beach. I grasp his hand, he falters slightly before following after me. A quick surge foreword as he drops my hand then lifts me over his shoulder. I gasp slightly and grip onto his shirt, “Evan!”

“You run too slow, y’know I’m trained to run carrying a hell of a lot more than what you weigh” He sasses slightly, lowering me as the waves lick at my feet. It’s a re-assuring smile he gives me as he leans in and kisses me softly.

I smile into the kiss and wrap my arms around his neck. Locking my fingers into the soft blondeish brunette curls, “y’know. I didn’t realize how much I needed to get out of the city until I actually got out” I murmur as he turns and we stand side by side. The waves crashing into my ankles, starting to wet the edges of my leggings. The water starts to soak into Bucks jeans. He holds my hand, stuffing it into his hoodie pocket. I lean against his bicep, his finger rubs against my thumb.

“Good trip then?”

“Definitely”

[alwaysmicado]

keep you warm

1.3k | Joel Miller x f!reader

post-outbreak, established relationship, pregnancy Summary: You reveal to Joel that you are carrying his child. He vows to keep you both safe and warm, always. A/N: This fic is a bit different from the things I've posted so far and it was so much fun to write. I put my heart (and tears) in it and I hope it will bring you as much comfort as it did me. 🤍 series masterlist

There are darknesses in life and there are lights, and you are one of the lights, the light of all lights. - Bram Stoker, Dracula

The car engine growls softly as it cruises down the winding road, surrounded by a kaleidoscope of autumnal hues.

Joel has his hands placed firmly on the wheel as he glances over at your sleeping form, your silhouette painted in the warm glow of the sunset. The air inside the car is filled with a comfortable silence, the weight of your continued journey hanging in the atmosphere.

As you navigate through the autumn landscape, daylight begins to fade, casting long shadows that sway with the curves of the road. Joel steals a glance in the rearview mirror, squinting against the diminishing light. The forest on either side of the road stands like a wall of rust and amber, a silent observer to your passage.

You stir in your sleep, a soft moan escaping your lips. Joel reaches, caressing your cheek gently, tracing a promise with tenderness he thought long gone. 

Until he met you.

A few miles ahead, Joel spots a fitting spot by the edge of the forest. He eases the car to a stop, gravel crunching beneath the tires. The engine hums into silence, leaving only the rustling of leaves and the fading whispers of the day.

“We’re here, darlin’.” 

Your eyes flutter open to Joel’s soft touch, his hand brushing away the remnants of sleep. You both step out, the cool evening air enveloping you like a gentle embrace.

Setting up camp unfolds as a familiar routine. Joel sparks a small fire, the flames dancing in the encroaching darkness. The scent of burning wood mixes with the crisp fall air, creating an ambiance that is both comforting and hauntingly beautiful. You arrange your sleeping bags near the fire, a makeshift sanctuary in the wilderness.

As you sit by the fire, the warmth casting a soft glow on your faces, Joel pulls out two cans of beans and some beef sticks. You eat in companionable silence, the crackling of the fire punctuating the stillness.

Yet, Joel can’t help but notice the subtle changes in you—grimaces and absent-minded belly rubs.

He sets his half-eaten bowl down, a subtle tension settling into the contours of his expression as he watches you closely. “You ain’t lookin’ too good, honey,” he notes, his voice laced with concern, slicing through the ambient crackling that reverberates in the air. “Somethin’ not sittin’ right?”

Gazing at Joel across the fire-lit expanse, his weathered face bathed in the flickering glow of the dancing flames, your heart swells with love—and dread.

You clutch your belly as you double over, a sudden, strong wave of nausea overcoming you. Startled, Joel’s eyes widen, but he reacts instinctively, abandoning all else to rush to your side.

With a tender urgency, he crouches beside you as you vomit, his hands moving intuitively to cradle your back. His voice, usually rugged and steady, softens into a soothing cadence. “Easy now, darlin’,” he murmurs, rubbing comforting circles on your back. “I’m right here.”

Your body tenses with each convulsion, tears mingling with the involuntary heaves, but Joel’s steady hands and reassuring words calm you.

As the waves of nausea subside, he eases you back, offering a makeshift cloth to wipe your mouth. His gaze holds a blend of worry and tenderness, the firelight flickering in the depths of his eyes.

“Thanks,” you manage, your voice still shaky.

“That’s alright, darlin’,” he replies, a crooked half-smile playing on his lips. “We look out for each other, remember?”

Nestling closer to the warmth of the fire, Joel wraps a comforting arm around you. The quiet forest listens, an unspoken witness to the vulnerability shared beneath the starlit sky.

“You gonna tell me what’s been goin’ on?” Joel asks, his voice a gentle yet firm prompt.

You swallow hard and nod weakly, lifting your head up from his shoulder to meet his gaze. His brow is furrowed as he searches your watery eyes for answers. “What happened, darlin’?” he asks, wiping away the lone tear that is tracing a delicate path down your cheek.

The unspoken secret sits heavy within you, a silent burden that has been shaping every whispered conversation and stolen glance over the past few weeks. Each passing day deepens the weight, a constant companion in your shared journey.

The fear of Joel’s reaction, the uncertainty of the world you are living in, and the vulnerability of bringing innocence into chaos weave a complex tapestry of emotions, a heavy cloak draped over the anticipation of a new life.

You have never been more terrified. 

“Joel, I–” your voice is shaky and you need to gather all your strength to not break down into a million pieces. “I think I might be pregnant.”

The revelation hangs in the air, momentarily freezing time. Joel’s eyes widen, a mosaic of emotions crossing his face—shock, concern, disbelief, and then a surprising warmth.

He reaches for your hand, squeezing it gently. “Pregnant?” he repeats, his voice softer now, tears glistening in his eyes.

“Mhm,” you sniffle, your vulnerability echoing in the quiet night. “I swear I wanted to tell you before, I just–” you hiccup and wipe away your tears with the sleeve of your jacket. “I’m so fucking scared, Joel.” You look into his warm eyes for reassurance, your lip quivering, your whole body trembling with anxiety.  

Joel’s expression softens further, a tender smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he puts his hands on your arms, his eyes boring into you. “It’s gonna be alright, darlin’.” He pulls you into a gentle embrace, the firelight casting a comforting glow around you.

“We’ll figure it out together.”

As Joel’s reassuring words wash over you, a tangible weight lifts from your shoulders, carried away by the currents of relief. You allow yourself to breathe out a heavy sigh and let your tears run freely as you cling to the man who has saved you in more ways than he will ever know.

In this moment, beneath the vast canvas of the starlit sky, you find solace in each other—a fragile yet resilient hope kindling in the midst of your endless journey. 

Later, as you settle into your sleeping bags, Joel’s arm draped protectively over you, you feel a surge of gratitude. The warmth of Joel’s body pressed against yours creates a safe haven, momentarily replacing your fears with the undeniable comfort you both find in each other’s arms. 

“Sarah always wanted a little brother or sister,” Joel breaks the silence with a murmur, his warm breath ghosting your neck. “I wish she could be here to experience it.”

“I’m sure she’s going to look after her little sibling,” you whisper with a soft smile on your lips, tears silently pooling in the fabric of your sleeping bag. “Just like she’s been looking after you all this time.”

“I’ll do everything to keep you and our child safe and warm, my love. I promise.”

In the quiet cradle of the night, you drift into sleep, the rustling leaves and the forest’s whispers weaving a lullaby for your dreams.

Joel tenderly places his hand on your small bump, whispering promises to the precious life growing within, his words a secret shared with the quietude of the night. 

He lifts his head to look at your face, a soft smile gracing his lips as he cherishes the serenity painted across your features.

“You are the light of my life.”

-----

Series Masterlist | Joel Masterlist

[ki2rins]

⟢ sunsetz - nsr

"with sunlight on your face in my rearview"

pairings : bf! riki x gf! reader || fluff || wc ; 432 words

rin's yap! ; first fic back/ of the year,, still rusty but enjoyed writing this! (and lets just ignore the dress lyrics in sunsetz....)

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧

the highway provided you and riki a spectacular view of the sunset. you peered out of the window while a bright orange glow protrudes your car window. you admired sunsets wholeheartedly, with your gallery ranging from pastel coloured skies to dark glows. you only have one person to thank for the view happening right now - your boyfriend.  your mind flowed back to the scene one hour ago.

“get ready, pretty.” 

“im picking u up in 10”

you stared at the message before you received a phone call from riki “hello y/n?” “did you see my message” “i did baby, but last i recalled, we have no plans for today” you replied as you thought of any forgotten plans that you had made with riki. 

“oh come on, cant i bring my pretty girlfriend out for a spontaneous and impromptu evening date” riki sighed and you imagined a pout form on his lips. 

you giggled slightly and answered his rhetorical question. “oh yes you may, mr spontaneous” 

“great! im already on my way pretty, see you in 10!” your train of thoughts broke when you heard a familiar tune that resonates with the current view outside. “sunsetz?” turning to face your boyfriend as you saw him place down his phone. 

he hummed in response and muttered “this song reminds me of you, baby. the never ending glow that brightens up my life.”

your cheeks turned a faint shade of pink as you take in his words. you two have been together for sometimes but his words never fails to tug on your heartstrings. you reached to the backseat to pick up the film camera you both shared, to capture the soft, golden glow.

riki turned to the passenger seat, adoring the view of you now capturing the view with the film camera. he chuckled before he start to tease you. 

“ignoring your boyfriend for the view now?” 

you looked at him and gave him a grin. now positioning the camera to snap the sight of him focusing on the road.

“thank you, my pretty boy” you said as stared at the features of his face, from his jaw to his sharp nose.

“always my pleasure, my pretty girl” he turned to face you before leaning in for a peck on your lips.

the both of you hummed as the song continued. riki placed his hand on your thigh, patting alongside the soft beat. you look out at the view slowly fading as the car accelerates. the sunset slowly goes down but not your feelings for riki, which would always stick by you.